


The Marauders and the Accidental Enemy

by The_Ravenclaw_Revolutionary



Series: The Marauders [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Because I make crap up as I go along, Best Friends, Canon Compliant, Duelling, Enemies, Fist Fights, Friendship, Gen, Hogwarts First Year, I'm Bad At Tagging, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), More tags will be added as I write the story, random updates when I get time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:15:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25654255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Ravenclaw_Revolutionary/pseuds/The_Ravenclaw_Revolutionary
Summary: Two boys with bad home lives, a boy with a deadly secret, and a boy who has everything seems like an unlikely group. However, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and James Potter became friends as soon as they set eyes on each other, all very excited to begin their first year at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.  However an offhanded comment seems to be just the thing to create a lasting rivalry, start a year long prank war, and a whole heap of problems for the four boys. Add in secrets, school work, and sugar highs and you've got a recipe for fun filled disaster.------------------------------Hopefully book one of a planned marauders series. Updates will be whenever I can because my schedule is whack.
Relationships: James Potter & Lily Evans Potter, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter
Series: The Marauders [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859992
Kudos: 3





	1. The Going Away Party

Sirius Black lounged in a velvet green armchair, one skinny leg dangling over the arm. He was insanely bored although no one, he hoped, could tell. Number 12 Grimmauld Place was full of all sorts of important people, people he'd been told were there for him. That however wasn't true in the slightest. It was obvious that it was just another chance for his mother and father to hold another social gathering of the elites. They'd been looking to have another one for ages, and their eldest son preparing to leave for his first year at Hogwarts seemed to be just the perfect excuse.

What Sirius would rather have been doing was packing his trunk with his father. Earlier Orion had promised to help him, but was a bit too drunk for that now. Sirius glanced at the large ornate clock on the wall and groaned. It was a quarter to midnight and an hour and a half after the party was supposed to have ended.

"Siri," his younger brother Regulus said, walking over to him. "Mother said she'd like you to sit up straight like a normal person, please and thank you." Sirius moved his leg, swinging it down from its place on the chair.

"That's all well and good, but why'd she send you to tell me," he asked, slightly offended that his little brother had been the one to scold him. Regulus shrugged his thin shoulders and flicked his head, trying to get a piece of dark hair out of his eyes.

"Dunno. Also she said that you gotta go into the parlor as soon as you're able. 'Parently they need you for something." Sirius perked up at the mention of that. Perhaps things were finally going to get interesting.

Carefully, with his brother at his heels, Sirius wove his way through the crowd of people. He stopped for a second to say a quick hello to the Minister of Magic and again to do the same to who he thought was Fleamont Potter, the creator of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. 

"Hullo," Sirius said politely, not quite sure what to say to the man. He barely knew anything about him other than his product was bloody brilliant and his parents said the Potters were wealthy.

"Hello! How are you," the aging man asked with a warm smile. "Sirius is it?" Silently Sirius cursed himself for saying anything seeing as now he'd have to carry on a conversation.

"Yes sir, and I'm doing well thanks. This party sure is great isn't it?" Fleamont shrugged with a slight frown.

"Yes, I suppose it is. Although I'd rather be at home with my son James. It's his first day at Hogwarts tomorrow as well. But my wife insisted I come here instead. Something about keeping up appearances and all that." Now interested, Sirius continued speaking with new excitement.

"Well maybe the two of us can be friends, me and your son! D'you know what house he wants? I mean I'm going to be a Slytherin. Everyone in my family has been for _ages_. Not that I'd be opposed to Gryffindor. Being brave sounds good, even if my parents don't think so!" Regulus stuck his thin elbow into his older brother's back. "Oh, sorry Reg," Sirius said, turning back to him. "I forgot you were here. I'm coming. I've got to go," he said apologetically to Fleamont, who smiled good-naturedly and moved out of their way.

"You talk too much Siri," Regulus grumbled, following his brother into the parlor. "Even if it is to be all friendly."

"Oh shut up. You just don't talk _enough._ " Sirius said, ruffling his brother's hair fondly before making his way over to where his parents were chatting with a Ministry official. "'Ello Mum. 'Ello Dad. Reg said you wanted to see me." Orion and Walburga turned away from the man to face their son with a promise that they'd only be a moment.

"There you are son," Orion said laughing and draining the last of his blood-colored wine, a drop falling onto his black and emerald dress robes. "I was just about to send Kreacher to go looking for you. Your mother and I think it's time for you to gather your things for tomorrow. " His face softened slightly at Sirius' look of disappointment. He sighed, looking, for a moment, like he was going to cave. 

"Siri dear, I realize that he told you that he'd help you," Walburga cut in with the sickly sweet voice she used when reprimanding her children in public. "Sometimes though, there are more important things than trivial little promises like that. This party is one of them." Sirius balled his hands into fists, bit his lip, and glanced at his father who had resumed his conversation with whatever Ministry official he'd been talking to before. Realizing that he would receive no help, Sirius tried to argue with his mother instead.

"No Mum. He promised! You always tell me to make good on my promises! Why can't he just help for a little? He can always come back to the party and-"

"Sirius, there's nothing to be upset about. Perhaps Regulus could help you instead," Walburga said, cutting her son off. "He's always eager to help. Unlike some boys that I know." She grabbed his shoulders and tried to turn him in the direction of his brother. Sirius dug the heels of his shoes into the floor. 

"I don't _want_ him to help me Mum! I wanna do it with Dad! He promised! He-" With one hand over her eldest son's mouth, a smile that didn't reach her eyes on her face, and a show of brute force, Walburga wove her way through the crowd and over to the staircase. "Sirius Orion Black, you will go upstairs and pack your things," she growled in his ear. "Right now. I'll be sending Regulus up in a few moments. And when you're done, you're to stay in your room. You've clearly had a long day, and if you can't behave yourself here then I don't know how you're supposed to represent us well at school." 

Sirius made a face, his grey eyes swimming with tears, as he ran up the stairs and slammed his door as hard as he could. Angrily he kicked at the trunk beside the door and flung himself onto his bed. Wiping at his eyes and internally screaming, Sirius vowed not to let his brother into the room. Grabbing his newly purchased wand, he pointed it at the door and performed a simple locking charm his father had shown him. Only moments later he heard the sound of the doorknob being jiggled and when that didn't work, a quiet knock at the door. 

"Siri? Are you in there? I tried to open the door but it seems to be stuck." With a groan Sirius propped himself up onto his elbows facing the door.

"What do ya want Regulus? If Mum sent you I'm not letting you in!" The other boy was silent for a few moments.

"Nah. She didn't send me. I heard her yelling at you and I wanted to make sure you were ok." It was Sirius' turn to be quiet for a few moments, tracing his fingers across his silvery silk bedspread trying to think of what to say.

"I guess you can come in. Just a minute though. I used that one locking spell." This time instead of reaching for his wand he padded across the hardwood floor and opened the door himself. "There. Now you can come in I guess." Regulus smiled softly and closed the door behind him.

"Can I take off my shoes in here? Mum said I wasn't supposed to take them off, but they aren't that comfy. And I know that you won't tell if I do." Sirius nodded, drying the rest of his tears as discretely as possible. He sniffled and sat back down on his bed. Regulus kicked off the offending shoes and climbed up beside him. "I'm gonna miss you when you're off at school Siri. I'm not gonna have no one to play with. And Mum's gonna make me do all sorts of dull things. And Dad's gonna be off being busy and all that." Sirius nodded again, undoing the green ribbon that tied his hair back.

"Yeah. I feel bad for you. I'm gonna be off making friends and you'll just be stuck here at the house. You'll have Kreacher though. I guess he counts as _something_." Regulus wrinkled his nose at Sirius' comment but didn't say anything. "Can I tell you something Reg?" Without waiting for a response he continued. "I know Mum and Dad say that Gryffindor's not a good house to be in, but if I got put there I really _wouldn't_ mind. I mean yeah I wanna be in Slytherin with you and all, but if that's where I get put, then that's where I go." Regulus shook his head, his eyes wide and his dark hair falling into his eyes.

"Don't let 'em hear you say that Siri. Mum's already bound to be mad at you for a few days after what happened tonight. That'll just make it worse." Sirius laughed and wrapped a skinny arm around his brother's shoulders.

"Oh come on Regulus. You know it's not gonna happen. All the Blacks that count have been sorted into Slytherin. You'll see. And Mum will forget about this by the time I'm sorted tomorrow. Now I know that you really came up here cause she told you that you had to. Let's go. My trunk won't pack itself."


	2. A Boy of Few Talents

Peter Pettigrew sat outside his small rather run-down house, throwing small stones and bouncing them across the pavement and into the road. His mother stood inside the kitchen baking cookies, the smell of chocolate wafting from the open window. Supposedly his father was coming home to see him off to Hogwarts but somehow he didn't believe it. His father had told far too many lies in far too little time. It had been nearly a year since they'd seen each other for longer than a few hours. Maynard Pettigrew used the excuse of being too busy with work, but both Peter and his mother knew it was his disappointment in his son and the allure of his young secretary that really kept him away.

"Pete? Would you come in and wash up? Your father should be here any minute." Begrudgingly Peter got to his feet, running a hand through his dirty straw-colored hair. He climbed the stairs careful not to trip over the broken fragments of the second step. The kitchen was warm and filled with the scent of the recently baked cookies, bread, and flowers. Peter smiled as he walked into the room and wiped his shoes on the faded welcome mat, the environment momentarily calming his fears about his father. 

Carefully he slipped off his shoes and set them by the door before walking the rest of the way into the house. Peter dodged around the table and chairs and turned on the sink, letting the water run all over his dirty hands. Personally, he didn't see the point in washing up. It would only be a matter of time before he got dirty again. Yet the instruction had come from his mother and he had learned at a young age that even if his father was disappointed in him, he'd make sure his mother never would be.

"I'm done washing up Mum! Do you need help with anything for later?"

"No, that's alright dear. Why don't you go ahead and change into something a little bit nicer for dinner?" Florence Pettigrew entered the room, lifting her son's laundry into the air with her wand. "Your father just owled. He says he'll be home in fifteen minutes. And he's staying home all night and half of tomorrow! Just for you! Can you believe it? My special boy!" She planted a kiss on her son's blonde curls and continued her path into the next room over where with a wave of her wand the clothes began folding themselves. This was the happiest he'd seen her in weeks, so with a forced smile that hopefully looked natural, he left the room.

Sighing, Peter climbed the carpeted stairs to his bedroom. He walked past his mother's room and his father's 'office', which had become his bedroom if and when he was home. He came to a stop in front of a room with dozens of Appleby Arrows posters were plastered to the door, the players becoming blue blurs while zooming in and out if the images. This time instead of doing exactly as he'd been told, he flopped discouraged onto his bed. 

"Stupid Father, always coming home at the worst times and ruining everything! Why don't you just leave with that lady from work you like better than Mum and get a kid you'll like better than me?" He stared up at the ceiling, eyes squinting, and tried harder than he ever had to show some sign of magic. Anything to get the attention he craved from the man he hated most. After several minutes he gave up and resigned himself to changing into a different outfit. "I might be Mum's 'special boy', but I'm also Father's 'useless kid with few talents.' That's all gonna change tonight," he told himself struggling into a slightly small set of nice robes. "Maybe since I'm magic enough to go to Hogwarts he'll say that he loves me. Maybe tonight." With one last glance into the mirror hanging on the back of his door, a bit of spit in his hand to flatten his hair, and an awkward smile on a chubby face Peter walked downstairs and into what would soon become a viper's nest.

His mother, who was pacing in the living room, glanced up just in time to catch a glimpse of the sullen look on her son's face. She sighed. If the two could just learn to get along then things could go back to the peaceful way they used to be before Peter had turned three.

"Is it really as bad as you're making it seem," she asked, masking her feelings of anxiety and planting a kiss against her son's blonde curls. "I know he's not around often and he's," she paused to think of a delicate way to put what she was about to say. "Well, He's not the most amiable, especially when it comes to you at times, but this time I think he really means well. He's staying for a whole day Pete! Can you believe it?" Peter smiled as cheerfully as he could manage. The smile didn't reach his eyes, but he hoped that his mother would be too delighted at the sight to look much farther.

"You're right Mum. It's not that bad. Not really. And I'm sure he'll stick around longer this time. You just wait and see!" Peter sat rigidly down on the couch, the sick feeling he often got after lying to his mother filled his insides. Seconds later the feeling worsened as the recognizable crack of apparation sounded from outside the front door. Florence and her son both froze for a moment, one in terror and one in excitement. One, two, three seconds later a knock snapped them from their stupor. 

"Just a moment!" Florence nearly jumped from the couch before remembering her wand and unlocking the door for her husband. "There. The door's unlocked. You can come right in. " Peter sucked in a breath, waiting for the moment he was expected to greet his father. "If you need my dear, I'll be in the kitchen finishing up dinner." And just like that the father and son were left alone together.

"Peter," Maynard said, entering the room with a nod to his son before settling across the room on the couch. "Long time no see."

"Hullo Father." The words were unprompted, and Peter felt a bit of pride swell in his chest. Perhaps the night wouldn't end as badly as he thought. Maybe being accepted to Hogwarts was enough to prove his worth. He let out his breath slowly, trying not to feel too relieved in case everything went south.

"You've grown some. In ah... more than one direction," Maynard whispered with a glance towards where Peter, remembering how important this was to his mother, stayed silent and clenched his jaw. It stung of course, but not as much as some other things that had been said about his weight over the years. Things were definitely going south. "And interestingly enough you've got enough magic to go to school. Never thought that would happen." Maynard grinned cruelly.

"Dinner's ready you two," Florence called from the kitchen, saving Peter from saying anything he might regret. "And I haven't heard any shouting yet. Finally getting along I see?"

"Uh, yeah. Uh huh. Very much getting along," Peter said, glancing at his father. "So what do we have to eat?"

An hour later Peter had had enough. All throughout the entire meal all he had heard were snide comments about both he and his mother. He bit into his fifth cookie vehemently and tried to ignore what his father was saying. 

"And the funny thing is when I told them why I was taking tomorrow off, they were surprised that Peter actually made it into school. Elizabeth, that's my secretary, didn't even know I had a son! She's been under me for what, six years now? And she didn't know I had a kid? I mean I know he sucks, but I can't believe that I never even complained about him to her!" 

"Maynard!" Florence glared at him, scandalized. "How could you say such a thing! Peter's a sweet boy! And he has plenty of things he's good at! Just give him a chance and-"

"Mum, shut up," Peter shouted, leaping up from his place at the table. All conversation stopped. "Please," he added softly. "Please be quiet. I know you mean well, but you're really just ignoring the obvious! I'm not good at anything! We're enough for him! And no matter what either of us do he's just going to pretend that we don't exist more and more until he leaves us for that... that stupid secretary with big boobs! Stop acting like everything's going to be ok! It's not! It hasn't been for years!" He was shouting again. Maynard was standing too, face red with anger. Florence was sobbing, all her pent up frustration and feelings laid bare before her broken family. 

"Shut the fuck up! You'll shut the fuck up if you know what's good for you! You're no son of mine and you never fucking will be! You wonder why I'm never around? Well here's why! You're useless Peter!"

"Fine," He bellowed, slamming one fist on the table and accidentally shattering a plate. "Then if we're worth so little to you than leave! I don't want you here! You've ruined everything!! I thought that I could finally be good enough for you! Maybe you would come home and we could be a family again! But nothing's good enough for you! It doesn't matter that I'm just a kid! If it's not perfect then it's broken! You were never really my dad anyway! No in any way that mattered!" And with that he left, stormed up the stairs to his room, slammed the door, laid on his bed, and cried.


End file.
